


Innovations

by Davechicken



Series: The Emperor and his Knight [14]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 19:29:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6821128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe always finds new things...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Innovations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poetdameron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetdameron/gifts).



Their relationship is likely the worst-kept secret in the whole of the First Order. Frankly, everyone already thought they were an item from the moment then- _Ben_ and Poe arrived. Which they kind of were, just not… physically. Emotionally, they’d been inseparable for years. It just so happened that their relationship worked even better when they finally got it on.

Even so, when Kylo sneaks down to Poe’s rooms, he’s always giddy and nervous. He tries not to think too long about Poe around other Force-sensitives, mostly because he doesn’t want them to hear how infatuated he is, and also because he knows it could put Poe at risk. And he doesn’t want that. At all.

They’ve been spending practically every possible night together since the start of forever anyway, even before their relationship deepened. It’s just that now - well - now they have all these new things to try. And Kylo turns up, not knowing what Poe will have researched next. 

[[MORE]]

He isn’t sure how it happened like this, but after Poe mentioned ideas a few times, it more or less became His Thing to find new stuff. Not that Kylo doesn’t initiate or let Poe know if he wants something specifically, but anything New is Poe’s department. He enjoys the surprise, and also knowing that Poe wants this as much as he does. 

Tonight, their date starts out with a bootleg holo and a makeout session on Poe’s bed. Mask off, it feels nice to be touched again. Poe’s hands are caring, pushing his hair back, holding his head gently as he nibbles on Kylo’s lips. Kylo’s glad Poe seems to still enjoy this element as much as he does (a few times of exhaustion aside, for both parties, and a few tired handjobs and cuddles after notwithstanding). He wants to try _everything_ , and Poe already agreed to try work their way through various guides and position suggestions and acts.

So far, Kylo hasn’t found a single thing he doesn’t like. He liked hands, of course. And he liked blowjobs. It was weird to give one, and he gagged a little, but when he worked out how not to choke and that it was fine to use your hand to help out, that had gone down great. Literally as well as figuratively. Poe had been incredibly appreciative, and had responded in kind shortly after. Kylo had liked _that_ , too. 

Then there was the penetration, too. Their first time they hadn’t known who should go first, but Kylo had reminded Poe that he was - well - long, and Poe was - well - _wide_ , so either one of them could be difficult to take inside. A flipped holo chit and Poe had been the first victim of that experiment.

Kylo had probably prepped him for too long, but he’d been terrified of hurting him. It had taken a while to accept that the moans were _pleased_ , not pained. It had been over pretty quickly, but Poe hadn’t complained, and Kylo made it up to him by sucking him dry. The next time they’d reversed things, and Kylo finally understood why Poe made the noises he had. Because he made them, and more… and when Poe started strategically angling his thrusts, he’d come screaming-blind and happy. Poe finished inside of him, and the trickle of come that leaked out of him, diluted with lube, had felt like a glorious sin of its own.

All good things. All of them.

Today, Poe has that _I have an idea_ glint in his eyes. The one that sends shivers down Kylo’s spine, and makes it hard to stay out of Poe’s head. He has to concentrate really hard on the current moment, the blaze of wildfire where Poe’s hands slide up and down his clothed thigh, the lip-soft kisses and the taste of his day in his mouth. They tangle down onto the bed, arms and legs finding symmetry and tessellation, subtle rocks and strokes and sighs as they urge one another higher.

Kylo’s somewhere half-octopused around Poe when a purr sounds near his ear. “I want to try something with you.”

“Y-yeah?” He hates how his voice breaks like that, how he can’t prevent it from happening.  


Wicked fingers tiptoe their way down over his sides, provoking deeper shudders of want. “You trust me?”

“You have to ask?”  


“ _Do you trust me_?”  


“With my **life** ,” he replies, fervent and sincere. Eyes that meet, love that arcs back to find its equal and opposite, and Kylo’s _floating_ with how happy this boy - this _man_ \- can make him feel.  


“Okay… let me…”  


Undressing is never graceful. It just isn’t. It’s a mix of hands and elbows and legs and usually ends up with at least one of them hissing and the other giggling, and then they’re both naked on Poe’s narrow bed, and bumping noses together and shy glances at the other’s body, shyer touches. The clothes pool together, a mingled mess of blacks and dark shades, and Kylo lets himself be manhandled into position.

Poe makes him scoot up to the head of the bed, propping his head and shoulders against cushions. He waits there, and then his ankles are pushed up, too. Almost bumping his ass, and he parts his knees to allow Poe access.

When Poe urges his feet up and over his shoulders, then puts hands under his ass to lift it, he expects this to start with a blowjob. Which is great, obviously. Instead, Poe uses his nose to trace over his stiffening dick, and then his sac, and then there’s a flicker of tongue just below and behind his balls. Poe pushes them up, away from his body, and lets them fall back down with a thud. Kylo knots his fingers into Poe’s hair, swirling circles with the fingertips, and makes a sound of relaxed bliss. This is definitely still nice.

Then - of a sudden - the tongue is back and licking right behind his balls. It presses down in places that make Kylo’s toes curl, a steady, slick sensation that’s utterly glorious. It slurps noisily, and he tries not to hold Poe in place to demand more. He rubs against something inside that has him trembling with appreciation, and Kylo bites his lip to keep from begging already.

He’d beg if Poe just looked at him right. He would. Fingers massage his hips, and he’s a mess of warmth and wet and it’s just lovely. He wants more, and he’s about to ask when…

Poe… _l i c k s_ him. Like. Licks him. A sudden stripe of his mouth from as far back between his parted legs as he can, all the way to his balls. And that feels odd, but good. Kylo stops thinking, stops making noises. He’s trying to process how it feels when Poe does it _again_. This time slower, harder. A drag of his flat tongue, and a pressure that makes Kylo want. Want. Want something, but he’s not sure what. 

“Poe…”  


“Good, babe?”  


A nod, even though it’s still a mess.

The tongue goes slower, halting when it reaches his hole. Kylo freezes, the subtle pressure there a glorious torture. It squirms and wriggles there, and he squirms and wriggles, too. Sort of sloppy, but good, and then Poe starts lapping over his entrance with intent.

It’s _wrong_. Wrong. It’s so wrong. No matter how clean Kylo gets himself (and he always does, before he comes to visit, since they started this, his personal hygiene has stepped up several notches to ‘borderline obsessive’) it’s still wrong to put your mouth _there_ , right? His fingers claw, and pull, and he’s panting in confusion.

 “Poe?”

“Shh… let me…”  


The tongue pulls and tugs at him, tugging over the very, very sensitive skin. Nudging and pulling, and then there’s a spiral-swirl like a black hole gulping down a star, and Poe’s sinful tongue is working _into him_.

Into. Like. Like his fingers or his dick do. Except not them. Softer, more yielding, more intimate. It pushes all the way in, until lips are sealed around his ass and he’s kissing him so deep inside.

He shouldn’t do this. He shouldn’t… it’s **wrong**. So wrong. It feels so freaking amazing, though. Fingers still holding his shaking legs in place, that tongue twirling around inside of him, licking at his walls and widening him by degrees. It doesn’t even feel like an intrusion or penetration in the same way that prep can feel, or the way Poe’s dick can feel when it goes in a bit too soon (but not really too soon). It’s more soft and subtle and wonderful all the same, but should Poe really be doing it?

“I… is that… is it… sanitary?”  


Poe snorts hotly against his ass, and stops. “Babe, you wash yourself so thoroughly that you’re probably cleaner than the plates you eat off.”

“…still.”  


“Does it feel good?”  


He’s ashamed to admit it does. It feels freaking incredible, if somewhat odd. The odd stops him entirely going too far over the edge, but adds its own, sharp tone to the act. A tiny nod, and he’s nipped on the cheek in retaliation. “Ow! Yes. Yes. It feels _amazing_ , Poe.”

“So let me keep doing it. I get to say where my mouth goes, not you.” There’s a pause. “Unless you don’t want my mouth in a place. I mean–”

“I know what you meant, you nerf,” Kylo says, and smiles fondly down at the man between his legs.   


“Then stop complaining.”  


“Complaining is what I do best.”  


“And this is what I do best, alongside flying…”  


And there’s an image and a half. Poe and him having sex while Poe flies something. Could they do it in a TIE? Would it have to be another cl– ohhHHH. Back with the indecent, indecorous slurping, and the wiggling, squishy, squelchy massaging of his inner passage. He clenches around the intrusion, heels pushing down hard, and pants. He wants to hold Poe still and ride his mouth, but that would be rude. Very rude. Instead, he makes a garbled, weird noise of delight, and tries all the harder to hold still as he’s summarily eaten out.

Poe alternates, coming up for air and biting and nuzzling his inner thighs - the slight hint of stubble there because he didn’t have time to shave - and Kylo’s reduced to a wreck. His cock doesn’t know what’s going on, just that it enjoys it, and he’s half blind with _want_. More laps, and then there’s two fingers spearing in right as his tongue pushes in, too. There’s a curve, and then Poe grazes against his prostate, that place that makes the world go black and then nova, and Kylo YOWLS out his climax with no real warning whatsoever. It’s embarrassing how quickly he’s come, how rapidly he’s reduced to a thrashing mess, but perfect all the same.

Poe doesn’t stop. Of course he doesn’t stop. His fingers milk and massage and stimulate all the more, and Kylo kicks and hisses, his balls empty, his dick spent and twitching. Poe keeps going, and the tremors build exponentially, making him sob with frustration, making him weak and spent. “Please… no more, no more…”

A growl, and Poe lifts to look at him. “So I shouldn’t fuck you, now?”

Kylo is going to die. “No! I mean yes! I mean…”

“Fuck, or not? Because I can just give you white dogtags…”  


“ _Fuck_. Yes. I mean. Anything, Poe… **anything**.” Both sound appealing. Being covered in Poe’s come like he’s a cheap whore, owned and marked and claimed and _smelling of him_ , or filled with his emissions, with them dripping from his saliva-slick hole… Both. Both sound wonderful.  


Poe decides for him, crawling to sit astride his stomach. He’s gooped up the sticky mess of Kylo’s climax, and he slides that over his own cock, where Kylo can see. He watches as the white come is stroked - glistening - over Poe’s full shaft. Watches in fascination the ways Poe likes to please himself: rougher and faster than Kylo would normally dare touch him. Poe is shameless, and he beats himself off like it’s almost a punishment.

“Gonna… gonna come so hard, babe… Ky…”  


“ _Please_ ,” Kylo begs, suddenly needing to watch it happen close up. To know he’s so attractive, so appealing, that Poe has no choice but to jerk himself to completion. “Please, Poe. Come… come on my face.”   


“Over… over those lips of yours, your cheekbones, your… _hngnngggghhhh_ …”  


Poe’s voice breaks so wonderfully, and Kylo’s ass and balls and cock ache in sympathy. He’s moving faster, now, his hand a blur over his hot, pink cock. The head pokes out from between his fingers, and Kylo can’t stop looking from it to his face and back.

“Do it. Mark me. Make me yours,” he husks. “I _am_ yours.”  


“I– oh, oh, Mmmmaker, I–”  


Poe’s swaying, and Kylo grabs hold of his ass, squeezing, nodding, meeting his eyes. They stare at one another as Poe’s climax hits. The pilot’s eyes go hazy, and his dark lips part around a cry of bliss, and then there’s a sudden, sticky heat all over Kylo’s chin, lips, throat. Poe’s spurts land in a hot mess, and Kylo flickers his tongue out to lap the parts clean he can. Poe grunts harder, and when he’s done, he drops back onto his haunches. Arms shaking, holding him up. Eyes closed, chest heaving.

“That… was incredible,” Poe whispers.  


“Can we do it again?”  


A laugh, and Poe moves to lie on top of him, to bump noses together. “Of _course_. But after I recover, okay?”

“Yeah. Lots of times, though.”  


Poe smirks. “Knew you’d like it.” 

Poe is normally right about these things.


End file.
